Take Me Away
by Ace Aero
Summary: These memories of that time... I hated it. I hated it all. WW2 flashbacks


**Warning: **Mention of a certain red armband, language, blood.

**Take Me Away**

North Italy - Veneziano, was enjoying a nice after noon outside his house in Venice. Romano – South Italy, his brother, had left a few weeks ago for his part of the country. He was rather happy and content with the peace and quiet his Venetian home gave him when his brother wasn't here. A sketch pad was idly sitting on the table next to him, along with a pencil, eraser, and a bit of biscotti left over. He had his iTouch set for shuffle, and this song was one he hadn't heard before. Glancing back at the dock it was stationed on, he noticed the name: "Take me Away." It was the song that America insisted all the countries get and never listen to unless their damned players were set on shuffle or were desperate for something epic to listen to. _'I wonder if anyone abided by that,"_ the Italian thought. A few seconds into the song had him knitting his eyebrows in wonder. Memories were slowly resurfacing. Some he'd rather swat away as fast as possible. _"World War Two? Now, of all times?"_

* * *

><p><em>Kneel… (dream within dream we travel)<em>

_In silence… (empires of faith unravel)_

_Alone… (sealed with our virtues' treasures)_

_Kingdoms falling…_

* * *

><p>'<em>It's the end! Finally the end of this blasted war!"<em>

"_Sir, we've received a report that _he _has died."_

* * *

><p><em>Down… (who's hand commands this thunder)<em>

_In silence… (cry as we're torn asunder)_

_Alone… (unto what gods do I call?)_

_Protect us in our…_

* * *

><p>'<em>Memories… those in general. They're a pain. A pain I'd rather forget. That damned puppet government… that damned puppet country!' <em>The memories persisted along with the length of the song.

* * *

><p><em>Take me away from time and season<em>

_Far far away we'll sing with reason_

_Prepare a throne of stars above me_

_As the world once known will leave me_

* * *

><p>"Create the RSI or we <em>will<em> bomb Geneva, Turin, and Milan. My boss's orders. He said he'd actually do it this time, Italy." Germany's cold stare met mine. It was horrifying. Frightening.

"S-Si…" I nodded, and quickly left our meeting in a rush, tears streaming down. _"Goodbye, fratello. Looks like I won't be seeing you until the end of this damned war."_

_Little did I know that that decision would scar me permanently._

* * *

><p><em>Take me away upon a plateau<em>

_Far far away from fears and shadow,_

_Strengthen my heart in times of sorrow,_

_Light the way to bright tomorrows_

* * *

><p>"He signed that bloody blasted document?"<p>

"I-I'm afraid that's what the reports say, sir. The upper portion of Italy has become a Socialist Republic, led by Mussolini. They were reportedly under threat, sir."

"_A puppet government, a puppet country made under threat. All to keep these pesky Italians in check, eh Germany? Bloody Nazis…"_

* * *

><p>"G-Germany…" My voice merely came out as a tremble. Did he hear me? I tugged at the red armband I was now forced to wear.<p>

"What is it, Italy? You don't look too well." A hint of comfort was in his voice, but it was so faint I didn't notice at the time. I just kept on trembling, heat rushing up to my face.

"N-Never mind. I'll just leave now…"

"Alright then. Don't bother me then if you have nothing to say. It's not right."

"I understand." I rushed to my room and cried in my pillow.

"_Dio, help me please!"_

* * *

><p><em>Answer our call in desperate hours<em>

_Shelter our fall from earthly powers,_

_Temper our souls with flame and furnace,_

_Bear us toward a noble purpose._

* * *

><p>"What was so noble in all that?"<p>

* * *

><p>I stood there on the battlefield, eyes cold. Now, whenever I looked in the mirror I never saw a cheery face. It was the same as Germany's. The more I looked, the more I wanted to tear that red armband off. I tried. It never worked.<p>

"Dammit all to hell! I hate this life!"

My gun was thrown to the ground. I collapsed. I cried.

"I hate this place, I hate this fake mess of a country, I hate this war, I hate _**him**_."

Words that were never muttered ever again in my life were spoken. That was the last time - the _only _time – I would _ever _talk about _him _like that.

* * *

><p><em>Heaven hides nothing in it's measure,<em>

_Mortal men blinded by false treasure,_

_Formless and vanquished we shall travel,_

_Shield and sword will guide our battle._

* * *

><p>"My situation got worse over time."<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm back Germany~." I called as I stepped in the doorway. He stood up and nicked the small speck of blood on my face.<p>

"Good work, Italy. You seem to be in high spirits." He tipped his cap.

"It just took some getting used to, that's all!" My mask. That's what that smile was. That's what that life was. Germany was losing this war. The _Axis_ was losing this war. My mask was cracked and broken, fixed by tape only when Germany was around. I was a mere shell following orders. He thought I liked this damned life? **Not in a million years.**

* * *

><p><em>Take me away from time and season,<em>

_Far far away we'll sing with reason,_

_Prepare a throne of stars above me,_

_As the world once known will leave me._

* * *

><p>Alone on the battlefield again, nothing seemed right. I wanted to <em>die <em>then and there. Join the thousands of corpses surrounding me. A poorly bandaged leg wound was bleeding. I sat down on a piece of debris. '_A building'_, I guessed. Wincing at the pain, I tugged at the red armband once more.

_I heard 'snap.'_

I felt pressure on the side of my right leg, the one that wasn't injured. _'A soldier? He's armed, too. I wonder if he'll lose consciousness or die of blood loss.' _A gun was pressed to the side of my leg, the soldier ready to fire no matter how shaky the aim.

"Die… you Itali-" Blood pooled around my feet.

The soldier died of neither reason.

"Good riddance." A cold gleam rest in my eyes.

No.

Those weren't _my _eyes. They were _**his.**_

'_What happened to me, Dio?'_

* * *

><p><em>Take me away upon a plateau,<em>

_Far far away from fears and shadow,_

_Strengthen my heart in times of sorrow,_

_Light the way to bright tomorrows._

* * *

><p>"My <em>brother <em>is doing _**what **_now?"

"You heard us right, Romano. Even though _you _signed the armistice, your brother didn't. The northern half of Italy has turned into the Italian Socialist Republic."

"Dammit, dammit, _DAMMIT!_"

* * *

><p>"Oh? You're back faster than normal, Italy."<p>

"It wasn't too hard."

"You don't seem too pleased."

"Small fry are small fry."

"What brought up the change?"

"That's none of your concern, Germany. The mission was too easy, that's all."

Little did I know he thought more.

'_There's something you aren't telling me.'_

* * *

><p><em>Heaven hides nothing in it's measure,<em>

_Mortal men blinded by false treasure,_

_Formless and vanquished we shall travel,_

_Shield and faith will guide our battle._

* * *

><p>"I prayed every day after that. Up in my room, alone."<p>

* * *

><p>Germany replaced it.<p>

He replaced that damned red armband that I so rightfully hated.

I ripped it off with luck in the last ordeal, only for him to replace it with another.

God I fucking hate this armband.

* * *

><p>Blood pooled around me. By now it was a normal sight. My eyes hard and cold held a glare that would scare the living hell out of anyone who knew me before this. And for the hundredth time, I said it again.<p>

_I hate this life._

* * *

><p><em>Salvation comes in desperate hours,<em>

_Angels on high proclaim these powers,_

_Lead us from chaos we shall follow,_

_Bear us toward a bright tomorrow._

* * *

><p>North Italy gazed down at his sketch pad. He figured he started drawing during the song. What he drew was a sight he never wanted to see again.<p>

A grey uniform and red armband, gun poised and ready.

It was him.

**End**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Globus.**

**Translations:**

Fratello – Italian – brother

Dio – Italian - God

**A/N: **What the heck is this… I don't even…. It's probably even historically inaccurate… Don't kill me!

**Please review! And no flames please!**


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